Work Daze

Let’s be honest: vacations stink. Here we sit, boobs in cubes, totally in sync with the ebb and flow of office life, when all of a sudden, summer kicks in, and we are expected to exchange our cozy Aeron chair and for a coach seat to some overpriced hell hole like Maui or Paris or Wall Drug.

Worse yet, society expects us to spend two full weeks far from our beloved fax machine, a full 14 days with children who are far more demanding than our psycho bosses, and spouses who expect us to communicate, even though no one has bothered to e-mail us an agenda so we know what we’re expected to communicate about.

I tell you, bub, if there’s anything that makes you appreciate how good you have it at work, it’s two weeks of family vacation.

Once upon a time, it was easy to steer clear of vacations. In fact, many of us have not only managed to avoid the standard two-week sojourn of sunburned baby bottoms, sullen teens, excruciating exchange rates, and intercontinental bicker-fests, but have actually gotten credit for our sacrifice.

“Oh, the poor darling,” your spouse would say. “He so wanted to come with the family for the 14-day, goat-cart tour of Lower Slovenia, but he was just too busy at the office.”

Alas, these brilliant excuses will no longer fly, so we may have to. Thanks to traitorous scribblers like Tripp Friedler, the author of “Free Gulliver: Six Swift Lessons in Life Planning,” it has now been revealed that the real reason we can not jet off for a two week package tour of the Knott’s Berry Farm Extend-A-Stay Motor Lodge is not because we are too busy at work, but simply because we just don’t want to.

What follows are author Friedler’s thoughts on popular vacation excuses, and why they won’t wash.

• You think you can’t afford it.

With the price of a gallon of gas now approaching the price of a gallon of Chateau Turpentine, you would think the “We can’t afford it” excuse would be unassailable. But Friedler bursts that balloon. “Actually you probably can afford it,” says Friedler. “You would just rather spend money on a big house or an expensive car.”

Considering the sad state of our paychecks, the truth of the matter is you have probably chosen to spend your vacation money on trivial luxuries, like medical care and food. But Friedler is relentless, suggesting that you live in a refrigerator box fifty weeks a year in order to spend two luxurious weeks exploring America’s national parks. “Hey, at least, you’ll know it’s your choice,” Friedler says. And so does Smoky The Bear. Which do you think Smoky would choose: living in the woods with a bunch of chipmunks or sitting in your Barcolounger and watching the OC on your big screen TV?

• You believe they can’t survive without you at work.

Wrongheaded Friedler suggests that if you use this excuse “you might have a few ego issues you need to explore.” In fact, we’re not afraid the business will crash without us; we’re afraid it won’t! Face facts, Friedler: the real reason we angle to stay home is because when the boss sees how well the company runs without us for two solid weeks, the next vacation hotspot we’ll be visiting is the unemployment office.

• Secretly, you’re more comfortable at the office than hanging out with your family.

“I’m not here to judge anyone,” insists the Tripster, pointing out “Many hard-driving executives don’t enjoy being around their family for long stretches.” And may I add, so do we no-drive sub-executive lackeys. It’s no surprise bosses don’t like to spend time with their families. Relatives are not direct reports. Family members don’t jump every time the boss sneezes, burps or grunts. And there’s that same lack of respect for Mommy and Daddy when they return to the bosom of the family for a vacation fiesta. You expect to be powerless and abused when you’re at work. It’s just too much when you get the same treatment at home.

So, what’s the solution? Tell your boss you’re going on vacation, and send your family flying off wherever they want to go, but you stay at work, safe and happy in your cube. Chances are, no one will notice you, and even if they do, think of the credit you’ll get for giving up your vacation. Now, that beats a suntan any old day.